


holding on tight

by Aoida_blue



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: five things fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:20:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoida_blue/pseuds/Aoida_blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Otherwise known as five times Jason and Dick held hands (and only one thing exploded)</p>
            </blockquote>





	holding on tight

**1.**

 

“Come on.” Dick goaded, smug stupid face twisting in a grin, “You’re gonna have to be faster than that to hit me.”

 

Jason gritted his teeth, and balled his hands into tighter fists. He was gonna wipe that smile right off his big face, then wipe the floor with him.

 

Bruce had chosen him. Let Dick see what that meant.

 

Dick tilted his head, “Any time this century little-“

 

Dick took a step to the side, and Jason saw his opening. Jason dived in, pushing hard off the ground and unleashing a feral swipe to hit Dick right under the jaw-

 

But Dick wasn’t there and Jason fist flew through the air.  Dick had moved back, back to his previous position and Jason’s aim had been off. Jason stumbled through the open space and Dick smirked.

 

There was bump at his back, a gentle nudge, and a foot locking around his ankle and Jason fell, hitting the mats with a wheeze.

 

“Never loose your balance, Little Wing.” Dick told him, almost glowing with sheer bloody-minded mirth.

 

Jason hissed out behind his teeth.

 

“You cheated.” Jason spat out, rolling over onto his bum to sit up and glare at Dick, “You faked a move.”

 

Dick shrugged, loose-limbed.

 

“There are no rules in fighting.” Dick said simply, then offered a hand down to Jason.

 

Jason glared at the hand for a moment. _No rules in fighting_ , he mimicked in his head. Well, Jason would show _him_ no rules.

 

He took Dick’s hand and Dick pulled him up.

 

Dick patted him on the back, pushing him slightly forward.

 

“Right, now lets try that-“

 

Jason struck.

 

He slammed his elbow back, striking Dick’s groin with a perfect precision and feeling it impact without hindrance of a cup, _Dick hadn’t even worn a cup_. Jason smirked as Dick's hand slipped limp off his shoulder and the cave filled with Dick's low-pitched groan. Served him right really. Always be prepared was a batman motto they both knew.

 

Jason stepped away from him, dusted off his shirt, and glanced over his shoulder. Dick crouched on the ground, hands over his groin, face red and eyes watering profusely as he glared at Jason. Jason stretched his grin just a little wider.

 

“There are no rules in fighting, big bird.” Jason drawled, sugar-sweet.

 

Dick’s eyes screwed shut.

 

“You little brat-“ Dick swore as he grimaced hard.

 

Jason laughed and jogged up the stairs toward the manor.

 

**2.**

 

The blood… the blood had been everywhere. Red smears of the table, the light switches, puddles on the floor, curdling and flaking in brown stretches or just.. just _rotting,_ the smell flooded Jason’s nose the second the door opened and his stomach revolted at the scent instantly.

 

But it was worse than blood. Mutilated corpses hung on racks, stripped of skin, eye sockets empty, skulls crushed and leaking white… and their _skin,_ human _skin_ had been sown into grotesque dolls. Dolls that rimmed every wall with stolen dead eyes and the haggard skin with thick black stitching, and the smell- and-

 

And-

 

Jason couldn’t stop seeing it. Every time he closed his eyes he saw it again, saw that blood, those bodies, those _dolls_ …  

 

His ears echoed. The sounds of a fighting match, another fighting match, reverberating so far away, a distant sound and Jason bit his lips harder.

 

There’d been a doll face stretched in a mockery of smile, black stitching _through_ the eyes that looked vaguely like his _mother’s_ and-

 

Jason shut his eyes and pressed his arms closer to his chest. The wall was cool behind his back and he pressed back to it, pressed as deep into his wardrobe as he could go, as if that could shelter him any.

 

A fresh corpse, the one the perp had been elbow in when they’d come through the door, stripes of skin being tugged off. Organs wrapped around his neck like a scarf. He’d smiled when he saw them. Offered them two dolls.

 

 _A_ _Batman_ , he’d said holding up two things the size of babies, _and a Robin_.

 

There was a something happening downstairs. Shouting and doors slamming and Jason tucked himself closer to his knees.

 

He could still smell it.

 

The burn of acid, the putrid undertone of ‘useless’ body parts in the corner, the freshly skinned corpses and their iron tang, the thick clotting smell of preservatives.

 

Oh _god_ he could still smell it.

 

His door creaked open and Jason flinched up.

 

He couldn’t let Bruce see him, he had to show him he could deal with-

 

Could deal with-

 

It was just Dick walking through his room on careful feet.

 

Jason turned his head stubbornly to eye the wall. Dug his fingers into the carpet either side of him.

 

Great. The success story was here to tell him how much he’d failed.

 

Dick didn’t say anything. Instead Jason heard his shoes, slick soled fancy shoes, not combat or working boots, slide over the carpet toward him. There was a little sigh, and Dick was settling in beside him, pushing into the wardrobe, shoulder warm and pressing right against him.

 

Jason bit his lip hard. Waited for the start of the lecture, waited to hear the _You weren’t ready, I had been better, I’m always better_ , and see that slick grin on his face.

 

It never came.

 

After a while Jason felt a hand curl around his, loosening his grip on the carpet, and just…just holding his hand.

 

Dick still didn’t say anything. Didn’t do anything else. Just held his hand, his shoulder warm beside Jason’s.

 

He didn’t even look at Jason’s puffy face.

 

Jason sniffed, felt the burn in his eyes and curled in tighter to his knees. He gripped the offered hand tighter.

 

Dick didn’t pull away.

 

**3.**

 

Dick was a stiff shape in the cemetery, as solitary and alone as the stone movements that lined the ground. He’d worn his suit, a starchy collar digging his neck, Jason could see that red indentation even from a several feet away, tie crooked from twisting fingers.

 

The dead were underfoot here, and Jason trod lightly, winding on the pavement until he was side by side with Dick. The wet grass brushing against his socks, soaking them instantly.

 

Dick’s mouth twitched.

 

“Didn’t expect to see you.” He murmured softly, a whisper as not to wake.

 

Jason shuffled a bit, but Dick didn’t glance at him, eyes steady and straight on the gravestones. Attention on the names, thick and dark on the grey stone.

 

“My mother’s is in month.” Jason said suddenly, throat feeling thick.

 

Dick ducked his head like it meant like something more than another awkward truth. Another pathetic reality in their crappy world. Dick’s face, when Jason checked with a fire-quick glance, was twisted.

 

“I always bake her a cake – chocolate with coffee mousse filling.” Jason continued, a bit doggedly, feeling the urge to run and forget this whole thing pinch him, but he had to say this, he had to, “Did your parents… did they have a favourite food… because if they-“

 

Dick was shaking. Shoulder’s hunched over and Jason felt his gut plummet. Shit. He shouldn’t have said anything. Should have kept his stupid mouth shut of course Dick wouldn’t want to-

 

Jason had to make this better. What would make this better. He strained his thoughts, thinking of Dick and everything Dick had ever done when anyone else was feeling rotten.

 

Moving quickly, Jason slipped a hand in Dick’s, curled their fingers together tightly. Jason swallowed, keeping his eyes down at the grave, gave him a small double squeeze like Dick had done months ago.

 

Dick hiccupped, like something ripped from his chest and Jason was pulled into a awkward one hand hug, Dick’s other hand clenching tight in his, holding fast between their chests.

 

The grip was tight, borderline painful, but Jason didn’t mind.

 

“Gingersnaps.” Dick said finally, his voice trembling, “My dad always loved them. Mum preferred shortbread.”

 

Jason nodded as best as he could with Dick wrapped around him, thinking of recipes, of where he could get ingredients.

 

**4.**

 

Batman was just ahead, disappearing in a wave of crooks and Jason ducked his head and lashed out harder. He felt a jaw crack under his fist, spun and knelt and sent marbles under the feet of three more, swept out the feet of another and leapt up, colliding two more heads.

 

It felt useless.

 

No matter how many Jason sent down, no matter how many he hit, and punched and kicked, they just kept coming. Jason sucked in a breath, felt the sweat slick against his mask, and threw another punch.

 

Penguin had launched an army at them.

 

They just had to fight their way out.

 

Jason glanced quickly over his shoulder, where he saw Batman last, and felt a lurch in his gut when he didn’t see the black anywhere.

 

This was bad. 

 

Jason swore, ducked under a kick, and pressed his ear again.

 

The communicator buzzed static. Like it had been doing the entire time they’d followed Penguin to this particular penthouse sweet.

 

This was so bad.

 

Jason kicked, and punched and leapt over the swarming men. Leaping off one’s shoulder’s to try to spy where Batman had got to. But the rooftop was clambering with men, all wearing black, and Jason couldn't see him.

 

Hands grabbed around his ankle and Jason didn’t have time to think, just leant down to try to pry them off, but the owner was having none of that. From his high perch, Jason was thrown to the ground. He spluttered at the impact, but before he could move an elbow drove down towards his stomach.

 

All the air rushed out of Jason’s lungs and he gaped uselessly.

 

No, this was definitely worse.

 

The grinning goon lifted him, preparing to send him back down to the ground again.

 

Oh shit.

 

Jason struggled.

 

A batarang lodged itself in the goon’s shoulder and he dropped Jason instantly with a howl. Jason felt gravity rush to claim him.

 

He never touched the ground.

 

He was swung, his hand tightly gripped and someone else’s momentum pulling them fast across the rooftop, over the ledge and into a controlled glide.

 

“I’d say that ranks as one of my better entrances.”

 

Jason looked up over his shoulder, saw Dick grinning like a loon behind his mask, his grip firm in Jason’s.

 

“I’ve seen better.” Jason couldn’t help but quip back, spying the dark form of Batman on a balcony, taking out a guard and head snapping up to their position, “I mean, there was no bang and-“

 

Dick just grinned.

 

Suddenly the rooftop behind them erupted in blue sparkles.

 

Jason blinked.

 

“Was that a glitter-“

 

Dick’s smile was wide.

 

“I take it back.” Jason retracted instantly, “That’s definitely one of your girliest entrances.”

 

Dick only laughed.

 

 

**5.**

 

Jason spat the blood out of his mouth, watched it splatter against the tiles. He wheezed and shifted about in his ropes, hoping as if some small change could suddenly make the wooden chair more comfortable.

 

It didn’t.

 

He slumped back, and licked the blood off his lips.

 

“So as reunions go, this sucks.” Jason muttered to the ceiling.

 

There was a haggard rip of a breath behind him. A pressure change on the ropes.

 

“I thought you’d died again.” Dick replied, voice faint.

 

Jason eyed the ceiling, looking at the dark rafters, the small mess of sleeping pigeons. Their only witnesses to the fool of a trap that had snared both the Red Hood and Nightwing.

 

The room rang with the soft ping of water hitting the ground.

 

“Sorry to disappoint.” Jason tried glibly.

 

Dick snorted, snapping the bonds uncomfortably tight around Jason’s waist.

 

“That’s fine.” Dick assured, voice rough, “I think its my turn anyway.”

 

Jason hands stilled where he had been twining the rope.

 

He twisted and turned hard as he could manage, body contorting as he tried to peer over his shoulder, tried to see Dick bound behind him. He could only see the curve of Dick’s shoulder, the shock of black hair.

 

But he couldn’t see enough.

 

“What’s wrong.” Jason whipped out, “Dick _what_ did they do.”

 

There was another ping.

 

 _Blood_. Jason realised with a dull horror. _Dick’s blood._

 

“Knife in the stomach.” Dick said, and it sounded as if the bastard was smiling, sadly but damn him, “The blood’s dark.”

 

Liver wound. _Shit. Shit. Shit._

 

Jason squeezed his eyes tight, started flexing his wrists, brushing briefly against Dick’s hands as he searched for a weak spot in the knots. There had to a way out, something he’s missed-

 

“Do you mind-“ Dick was wincing, Jason could hear it “not moving so much?”

 

Jason stopped instantly, anger curdling like sour milk in his mouth.

 

“Sure Dick, lets just stay still while you die, that sounds like a fine-“ Jason bit out and struggled some more.

 

Dick hissed out, the sound whistling slightly between his teeth. Guilt kicked Jason in the gut.

 

“The knots are secure, remember we checked that before they… they started beating us. We are here till Batman or Robin find us.” Dick’s chair creaked m his hands brushed against Jason’s, “Just… just do one thing for me okay?”

 

Jason felt every muscle coil with tension.

 

“What.” He said, short as he could, _god help Dick if he said something stupid like kill him-_

 

Dick let out a breath.

 

“Just hold my hand?”

 

The admission was soft, weak, but Dick’s hands were soft, fumbling against Jason, looking for his fingers. Without thinking, Jason stretched his hands and locked their fingers together. Squeezed twice against Dick’s hand.

 

Dick squeezed back.

 

Jason felt something cold and icy lodge in his chest.

 

“You don’t get to tell the other Bat brats about this.” Jason told him, words a hollow sort of bitter.

 

Dick chuffed something, which could have sounded a bit like a laugh or a wince, and Jason just held his hand.

 

Time ticked by slowly, the dripping of Dick’s blood on the floor, the rustling of pigeons on the rafters. Jason squeezed Dick’s hand hard.

 

The taste of blood and dust in his mouth, but no words. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so Jason just clung on.

 

Jason held on hard until Dick didn’t squeeze back, until Dick’s hand grew limp in his grasp, until the door rocketed in with an explosion, until Jason was screaming for Batman to look at _Dick, to look after Dick, to help him, oh god help_ -

 

 

**0.**

 

 

Dick’s head swarmed as if grey clouds had infested it as he slept. He struggled for a moment, trying to recall something, _anything_ , then he felt something so far away press on him. He drifted for a moment, trying to catalogue the feeling, the pressure that encompassed him.

 

It was hard to open his eyes, the lids felt as if they were a thousand tonnes, but Dick succeeded. The world seemed too bright, and almost as soon as he’d opened them, Dick shut his eyes again, grimacing as the grey clouds in his head turned to razors.

 

He tried again. Slowly squinting his eyes and forcing them to remain open as he adjusted.

 

His old room fell into place around him, his old room at the manor. Dark blue walls and posters from his childhood stretched on the walls like he’d never left.

 

The pressure shifted and Dick looked down. He blinked in surprise.

 

Jason’s face was contorted in sleep, head heavy on the bed beside Dick’s waist, body curled awkwardly on the chair. He held Dick’s hand in his own, fingers laced tightly even in sleep. With every disturbed twitch Jason gave in his dreams, his hand tightened on Dick’s hand.

 

Dimly Dick recalled the warehouse, the vacant feeling that had flooded him as he bled steadily onto the concrete floor, the dim chatter of pigeons above and Jason’s hand clutching him hard.

 

He’d survived. Somehow….

 

Jason clenched at Dick’s hand once more and Dick responded, squeezing Jason’s hand twice.

 

Instantly the frown on his face soothed out, his hand stopped twitching.

 

Dick smiled and let himself close his eyes again, let his body sag just that little deeper into the bed.

 

The feeling of Jason’s hand in his followed him into his dreams. 


End file.
